


Quicksilver

by najio



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: (the kind where you can't form new memories), Amnesia, Angst with a Hopeful Ending, Anterograde Amnesia, Established Relationship, F/F, Korra POV, Mood Swings, Paralysis, Paranoia, Recovery, Time Skips, Unreliable Narrator, mercury poisoning, takes place sometime after the end of book 3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:41:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27688435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/najio/pseuds/najio
Summary: Something is wrong. Korra can feel it from the moment she wakes up. It's not that she can't move her legs, or speak without slurring her words. It's the way every conversation feels rehearsed—like they all know what she's going to say before she says it, and she's the only one who never got to practice.(Or: Author looks up mercury poisoning, realizes the venom of the Red Lotus is the most horrifying thing ever depicted on Nickelodeon.)
Relationships: Korra/Asami Sato
Comments: 41
Kudos: 195





	Quicksilver

**Author's Note:**

> So this started when I made the mistake of going hey, I wonder what the real-life symptoms of mercury poisoning are. And apparently? Just... all of them??? Anxiety and depression, weakness and fatigue, balance issues, numbness, impaired speech... and also paranoia, mood swings, and memory loss, which seem like they'd mix about as well as fire and gasoline.
> 
> I guess what I'm saying is stay away from mercury, kids! Oh, and here's a thing I wrote.
> 
> (Should be noted that I have google not an M.D., so. Y'know. Don't expect medical textbook levels of accuracy here.)

She was weightless.

No. There was a hand on her back, a gentle swaying back and forth. She was horizontal. Carried.

Korra's arms jerked up, and one of her palms struck someone's broad chest. Too lightly, even though she'd moved with all her strength. Her head was tilted back, and wouldn't move when she tried to lift it. She couldn't see—!

"It's okay," said Bolin's voice. "It's just me."

"Z'eer," she slurred.

"He's gone. You're safe, everyone's safe." Korra opened her mouth to ask where they were going, but Bolin answered before she got the chance. "Katara took over one of the rooms upstairs. We're headed there now. She's gonna help you, okay?"

But... Katara was in the south pole. Korra tried to say as much, and it came out like she was trying to speak through a mouthful of sea prunes.

Bolin seemed to get the gist, at least. "It's been a while. Don't worry about it. You got hurt pretty bad, but you'll get better."

It was such an innocent thing to say that the surge of anger took her completely by surprise, bowling her over in an instant. Her hands curled into weak fists, and the tips of her fingers came alive with pins and needles when she moved them. Her legs were just numb. "Puh'me down," she gritted out.

"We're almost there."

There was something about the way he said it that made her bristle. Like he was so used to carrying her that he didn't even think about it. As if nothing she said had surprised him, even though she'd just woken up after... what? Days? Weeks? She wanted to surprise him. So she elbowed him as hard as she could in the solar plexus, and all he did was grunt and readjust his grip. "We're working on a better way for you to get around," he told her, still amiable, like he hadn't even noticed she'd tried to hit him.

The anger popped like an overfilled balloon and she was falling, sinking, her thoughts turning dull and murky as the mud at the bottom of a lake. She stopped trying to lift her head. She stopped trying to do anything at all, and let Bolin's words wash over her. "I mean, we have a wheelchair, but there are a _lot_ of stairs in the temple so this actually wound up being easier. Asami's been designing ramps, so hopefully we can get those finished soon."

Weeks. Months?

"We were gonna put you in the room next to Katara's, but... we, uh, went with familiar instead."

  
The tingling sensation returned—in her fingertips, in her ears, even at the end of her nose. She tried to take a deep breath but it wouldn't come. So she gasped, quick and shallow, and tensed until the muscles in her shoulders and back started to shake. It only took a few seconds. She was so weak, and her body wouldn't do what she told it to, and her chest ached like it was about to burst.

Bolin stopped at the top of the stairs and eased her to the floor, propping her against the wall and putting a hand on her shoulder. "Slow down."

She couldn't respond. Her legs sprawled uselessly in front of her—if she hadn't been able to see them, she wouldn't have been sure they were there at all.

"Breathe with me, okay? In... and out. In..."

Korra tried to follow his advice, but she kept choking on every inhale.

"Try imagining you're underwater."

She narrowed her eyes at him, because that sounded like _terrible_ advice when it felt like she was drowning... but she tried it, and remembered the years she'd spent training in the south pole. The shattered light of the surface far above her, the weightlessness, the water all around responding to her every movement. Korra took her first deep breath, and some of the tension bled out of her.

"Better?"

"Mmh."

"Good." Bolin picked her up again. "Try not to worry about it too much, okay? It sucks, but Katara said your mood is going to be all over the place for a while."

Korra frowned. She'd been able to see his face that time, just for a second before he picked her up. There were new shadows under his eyes. He didn't look like someone who was relieved his friend had just woken up from a coma. She wanted to ask him what was wrong

* * *

and then she was in the dark with a bag over her head.

Korra tried to kick out. Nothing happened. So she lashed out with her hands, instead. The right barely moved. The left shoved weakly at the cloth over her face. Someone hummed, and the darkness retreated. She blinked. There was a wall behind her, propping her up, and she was wearing a robe. Her hair was wet.

"My apologies. I forgot." Tenzin shifted the towel in his hands so that he could dry her hair without covering her face. He moved gingerly, as if it would cut her if he made a mistake. He could have done it in an instant with his airbending.

Amon. _Had he come back?_ She tried to ask, and snarled in frustration when her tongue wouldn't keep up with her.

"Slowly," Tenzin urged her, and brushed a lock of hair behind her ear.

"Why..." She reached up to touch the towel. Even that left her arm shaking with the effort.

He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Ah. Well. I wouldn't want it to get frizzy."

What?

She wanted to ask, since when did bald Tenzin have an opinion on frizzy hair? But she was more concerned with why she had wet hair in the first place. She couldn't smell salt or soap, so it hadn't been the ocean and it hadn't been a bath—

Katara. _Obviously._

"Is it over?"

Tenzin paused, a wrinkle forming between his eyebrows. "Is what over?"

It took a few tries for her to get out, "The healing."

When he finally understood, he seized her face in his hands. "You remember the healing?"

"No. B'fore."

"But you remember someone telling you?"

Korra tried to nod, then found her head was too heavy and grunted an affirmative instead. Tenzin stared at her for a moment, open-mouthed... and then his eyes welled up. There was no time to ask him what the hell was going on before he wrapped her in a hug. The confused noise she made was muffled into his robe, and the towel he'd been holding slipped out of his hands, forgotten. It landed on the floor, scattering strands of her hair that had fallen there.

Tenzin's shoulders shook. Korra wanted to return the hug, baffled as she was, but the best she could do was sling her left arm clumsily over his shoulder. Her right couldn't reach that high. Her head spun. Bolin had been so casual, she'd started to doubt whether she'd really been out that long. But this...

"How long've I b'n asleep?"

When Tenzin pulled away, she noticed for the first time the lines that had deepened in his face. "Asleep?"

"Since Z'eer."

His expression softened. "Zaheer was almost six months ago, but... Korra, you've been awake the whole time."

"No." Bolin had explained things to her, he hadn't been surprised she didn't know where they were going. He hadn't been surprised by anything. He'd known exactly what she meant every time she tried to speak, as if they were in a play and he was the only one who'd rehearsed his lines.

"You've been forgetting things," Tenzin told her. Gently, so gently, like a wrong word would shatter her. "Or, I suppose it's more that you haven't been remembering anything new."

The tightness in her chest came back to choke her. Korra tried to jump away from Tenzin, and only managed to topple herself sideways. He caught her and held her by the shoulders, talking all the while, telling her to breathe. Telling her to remember how it felt to be underwater.

That was how Bolin knew it would help when Korra didn't. How many times had they talked her through this feeling? Dozens?

* * *

Hundreds? Would she even remember sitting in front of Tenzin in a room with a towel on the floor—

Korra wasn't in that room anymore. There was a person, not a wall, at her back.

"You're in your bedroom, honey," her mother told her, when she heard the strangled gasp. "It's alright." Practiced. Everyone was so practiced at calming her down.

"How—how long—" and Korra choked on the words but her mother already knew what she wanted to ask, because she must have asked it over and over and over again.

"A little over three weeks since Tenzin."

Was this what the rest of her life would be? Snapshots in fast-forward, none of them making any sense, decades whipping by in hours? She couldn't protect anyone like this. What if she blinked and it was a year later and someone vital _wasn't there?_

"Dad," she blurted. "Asami, and Mako and Bolin, and—"

"Everyone's safe." Her mother leaned forward to smile at her. She looked sad but not surprised, because she'd expected that question too.

"Zaheer," Korra said, and surprised herself when she didn't mangle the name.

"He's in prison. He can't hurt anyone anymore."

Her mother ran a brush through her hair. It reminded Korra of Tenzin because of how careful it all was, like she was made of glass.

"You don' have t' do that," Korra muttered, and winced when the words blurred together. It was a little better, she hadn't been wrong about that, but it still irked her.

"Do what?"

"You c'n tug."

She could feel the hesitation, the way her mother tensed up behind her. "Honey, I don't think that's a good idea."

And that was when Korra finally reached up with her left hand, the one that wasn't as heavy, and felt it. Her hair was thin and patchy. As she brushed a hand through it, several strands fell out in the wake of her fingers.

Well. That explained Tenzin.

It hit her again—a spike of something past anger. She wanted to hit something. She wanted to break something. She sat there, her left arm barely strong enough to scratch her nose, her right not even capable of that much, and she wanted to break _everything._

"Ah!"

Korra snapped back to her senses, but it was too late. Her hands had heated to match her thoughts, and she'd burned her mother just below her elbow. She stared at it, horrified, feeling like she'd just swallowed a pit. "I'm s'rry!" she choked out. She couldn't even say _that_ right.

"Shh." Senna pulled her close. "Don't worry about it, I'll get Kya to heal it later."

No reaction to Korra being able to bend, which meant that this, too, had been rehearsed. Had she hurt someone else? Would they tell her, if she had?

"I wanna see them," she mumbled. "Everyone."

"You will," her mother promised.

"Now. I have to see them now."

"Korra, it's late. You can see them in the morning."

"No!" She struggled, trying to get her feet under her, but it was useless.

"Alright, alright," her mother said, and rubbed her back. "Just lie down and relax for me for a little while, and then I'll take you to see everyone."

Alarm bells went off. But lying down was all Korra _could_ do. Her mother sat with her and sang to her and smoothed her thinning hair back from her forehead, stalling her, waiting until she forgot.

They were lying to her. Someone was hurt. Had she hurt someone? Had Zaheer? Who was it? Were they... were they...

* * *

The thought fizzled out as Korra found herself burrowed into the crook of Asami's neck. She tasted salt, and her eyes hurt. Birdsong and warm sunlight came from overhead, and there was a picnic blanket spread out beneath them.

"How long?" she croaked. Her throat felt raw.

"The last time was with your mom, right?"

Korra grunted, and felt Asami relax slightly.

"Six days."

"Others. I need—"

"They're right over there," Asami assured her, and helped her lift her head to look. Her parents and the brothers were there, as was Tenzin and... chief Beifong? They were too far away for her to hear what they were saying. Bolin waved an arm for emphasis, and Lin stood with her hands clenched at her sides. Angry.

"What's..."

"Sorry. I asked them to let me steal you for a bit."

Korra shifted, trying to look up and see Asami's face. Then a breeze picked up, and she froze. The top of her head felt very cold. She groaned, and slowly lifted her left hand to touch stubble.

"How...?"

She could feel Asami's wince. "Uh... Meelo. If it makes you feel any better, he's still grounded."

"M'gonna kill him."

"Have a little mercy. He says you asked him to, and, well... we can't really know for sure, but he seemed sincere."

"Why... the _hell..."_

Asami laughed. "Probably because you went through all the responsible people first, and we told you not to do it until you remembered wanting to. Even Ikki said no."

Korra muffled a frustrated groan into her shoulder. She didn't mind that much—or rather, she _did,_ but it wasn't like anyone could help that it was falling out. She just wished she could've been the one to decide... damn it.

"My past self... is a jerk."

"I'll let her know."

"Mm." Korra nuzzled her cheek against Asami's collar and hissed. The skin under her eyes stung, as if... as if she'd been crying.

"You okay?"

Goosebumps spread across the back of Korra's neck. She shifted, managed to lever herself onto her side so she could see Asami's face. Her good hand came up to touch her eye, and her fingertips came away damp. "Am I?"

Asami flinched.

"What happened?" Korra demanded. Her hands braced themselves against Asami's shoulders and stayed there, because she was too weak to push herself away.

Hesitation flashed across Asami's face, and Korra grabbed a fistful of her jacket.

"Don't you _dare_ lie," she snapped. Too loud—a few of the others glanced in their direction.

Maybe not loud enough.

Asami bit her lip and looked away. "We... had an argument."

Korra looked closer, and noticed that there was a dark smudge under one of her eyes. "It was bad."

"I—" Asami hesitated again, glanced back at the others.

"Do they know?" Korra's mind whirled. Had they all talked about it? Picked a story to stick to?  
  


"Yeah. We were over there when it happened." Asami reached out, squeezed her hand. "It wasn't... it was just something some idiots were saying. You don't have to worry about it, I promise."

Korra would have shoved her if she could. "Tell me."

Asami didn't speak. Just lay there, with a hand over her face. Hiding... what? A smirk?

"If you stall me—"

"I'm not!" Asami burst out. The hand came down, and the look on her face was nothing like a smirk at all. She looked scared. Desperate, even. "I'm not, I just... it's bad, Korra. Really bad. And I..." She looked away. "I don't want you to remember what they were saying."

"That's not your choice."

At that, Asami deflated. "I know." It took a long moment for her to find the words—and all the while Korra itched with the fear that she'd blank out again and miss the lie and... and what? They'd realize how easy she was to lie to and tell her whatever was convenient?

Some of her thoughts must have translated to the grip she had on Asami's collar, because she forced herself to speak. "Some people in the city wrote to Tenzin. They... don't want to wait for you to recover."

"What?"

"Please don't make me say it."

It took a moment, but finally, realization dawned. The city wanted a new Avatar.

"Korra." Asami took her face in her hands, and opened her mouth to say

* * *

Everything hurt.

"Korra!"

She finally managed to resolve a blur of color into Mako leaning over her. One of his hands had her wrist in a vicious grip. The other was on her shoulder, pulling her towards him.

When she jerked back, she couldn't put much strength into it—but his hold on her was awkward, and she slipped free and landed hard on her back. He made a grab for her shoulder and missed. "Don't—"

Too late. Something jagged pressed into her skin. Dozens of somethings. There were sharp pains all along her back and her side, and in her wrist. Mako wasn't just grabbing it. He had a cloth wrapped around it, a cloth that reddened as she stared at it.

"I'm sorry," he blurted, and put a hand under her other arm so he could lift her to the side. "Here, just let me—"

"No!"

He ignored her and deposited her on a bed. Her bed. She still couldn't see what it was she'd fallen on, only that she was bleeding on the sheets. Mako stopped in the middle of the room, hesitating, his eyes flicking back and forth in a guilty panic.

"What happened?" she demanded.

"I don't know." He gestured towards the door. "I was outside and I heard a crash. I think you fell out of bed and broke a vase."

Korra was in bed now, lying on her front with her head turned towards the door. She struggled for a moment, using both arms as best as she could, but she couldn't turn onto her back. There was no way in hell she'd fallen out of bed in her sleep.

Mako leaned over her again, his hand going to her wrist. He swore under his breath and fumbled with the rag—no, not a rag. Her pillowcase. "Hey!" he shouted towards the door. "Hey, is anybody out there?"

A muffled thump from the hall. Then Kai poked his head inside. "Whoa," he blurted.

"Get Kya!" The boy disappeared in a burst of wind that slammed the door shut behind him.

"I didn't fall," Korra mumbled into her sheets.

Mako wasn't listening. He was focused on her arm, tying and retying the pillowcase until her hand throbbed. It was her left arm—because of course it had to be the one that had still kind of worked. When he was finally satisfied, he disappeared from her line of sight. She heard clinking, and his footsteps, and her right hand curled itself into a fist.

So, what? Korra miraculously jumped out of bed in the middle of the night and somehow wound up covered in cuts? And Mako just _happened_ to be outside and hear her shouting? There was something else going on here. Something he wasn't telling her. The worst part was that she'd probably _seen_ what happened less than a minute ago. How much had she figured out, only to lose it a moment later?

No. That was the wrong angle. How much _did_ she know?

"I didn't fall," she insisted.

Mako's head snapped up from behind the bed. "You remember something?

Her neck was bent at an awkward angle and it was a strain to look at him, but she thought she caught a hint of tension. Fear? _Guilt?_ Just like when Asami had been worried she remembered—

Republic City. They wanted a new Avatar. What if Mako agreed with them?

He glanced fretfully from Korra to the door. Waiting for Kai to come back with Kya? Or had she given something away? Did he know what she was thinking? Was he waiting for her to forget and let down her guard?

"No. I don't remember," she said, because she didn't know what he'd do if he knew that she knew. What if he was wondering if he had time to finish the job before they got back? What if he realized she was onto him and decided he had to risk it?

Korra was still focused on tracking Mako's movements by ear when the door slammed open. Kya rushed in wearing her pajamas, with a waterskin slung over her shoulder that she dropped at the foot of the bed. Asami and Bolin were right behind her, and both paled at the sight of whatever it was Mako had been trying to clean up. Katara entered last with Tenzin at her elbow, though she stood back and seemed content to let her daughter handle the healing.

"It's alright," Kya assured Korra as she drew the water onto her back. "The cuts are shallow."

"Are you sure?" Bolin wrung his hands. "That's... a lot of blood."

"Doesn't hurt," Korra mumbled into the mattress. A silver lining to her body being mostly numb, she supposed.

Asami stepped closer and put her hand over one of Korra's. "How did this happen?"

"I don't know. I heard a crash and when I came in she was on the floor. She must have fallen out of bed—"

"I didn't," Korra insisted.

"How else would you have ended up on the floor?" Mako's voice was sharp. A warning? A threat?

"I don't know." Korra twisted as best she could to look at him, but all she could see from her angle was his chest. "You tell me."

There was a sharp intake of breath from somewhere behind her. Bolin chuckled nervously, like he was hoping to spot a joke. Asami squeezed her hand convulsively. Mako took a step back, and something crunched under his foot. "What? I told you, I didn't see anything. I just heard the noise."

"Right," Korra scoffed. She'd have glared at him if she could. "You just _happened_ to be passing by—"

"I wasn't _passing by,_ I was sitting up! In case something like this happened!"

"It's true!" Bolin jumped in. "We've been trying to make sure there's always someone outside who can check in on you, because you kinda freak out when you wake up alone."

"You're keeping _tabs_ on me?"

"Because you asked us to!" He backed away from the bed, wide-eyed, half-hiding behind a stunned Asami. "We can stop, if you—"

"No, we can't," Tenzin broke in. "I will not risk something like this happening again with no one around to get help."

Mako crouched down so that she could see his face. "That's all it was, I swear. I was outside in case you needed me."

"Were you really? Because _someone_ was inside with me. I can't even turn over on my own. I couldn't have fallen out of bed."

"I didn't!" Mako insisted. He sounded panicked, now. Like he knew the lie was unraveling.

"It's alright, Mako," Kya assured him. "Korra, I know you're scared, but—"

"You seriously think that Mako came in here and attacked you?" Asami's grip on her hand got painfully tight. "How could you even— _why_ would he ever—?"

For some reason, Korra found she couldn't meet anyone's eyes. "They want a new Avatar," she mumbled into her bedsheets.

There was a shocked, horrified silence. The water on her back slipped out of Kya's control and soaked into her clothes and bedding. Then she heard footsteps, as Mako stumbled backwards and sprinted out the door.

Asami drew her hand away. "I knew I shouldn't have told you about that."

"Yeah," Korra shot back, "you should have lied to my face and let me forget. Just _manipulated_ me like they all do!"

Several people started talking at once.

_"What?"_

"Who's been—"

"How could you think—"

"Enough." Katara didn't raise her voice, but the room went quiet the instant she spoke. Then, softly, "Who is they, Korra?"

The answer was clear in her head— _they think I'm useless, they want a better Avatar, they're lying and making me forget—_ but somehow she couldn't make it fit the question. "They... the ones who... they want..." She stuttered to a stop, and her eyes started to burn with frustrated tears.

"Yes, but who are they specifically?"

"I don't—I don't know. Everyone."

Asami made a choked noise. "Everyone?" she burst out, ignoring Kya's attempt to grab her shoulder. "You think everyone wants you _dead?"_

Korra's head was spinning. It was and wasn't what she meant, and somehow she'd lost track of what she _did_ mean, and she tried to find it but what did it matter, really, when she was going to forget it soon?

"Do you know how many times Bolin carried you up those stairs? How many hours Mako and I spent feeding you? Did—" Asami's voice broke. "Did you know the Airbenders spent almost two weeks _breathing_ for you?"

"I get it!" Korra squeezed her eyes shut, and wished she could do the same for her ears. "I'm useless, I know!"

"We didn't do it because you're useless!" Asami shouted. "We did it because we love you!"

Silence.

"How... how could you think we'd ever want you gone?"

Korra didn't answer, because there was no voicing the horrible anticipation that crawled around the darkest corners of her mind, the utter certainty that a betrayal was coming. She felt her mattress dip, and when she risked opening her eyes she found that Katara had seated herself near her head. "It's hard to be vulnerable," she said, and rested a hand on the Avatar's head. "But you can't do everything alone, especially now. You have to trust, Korra."

Her breathing hitched. "I _can't."_ She was trying, she _wanted_ to. It had been so easy, so natural, to look at these people and know to her core that they were safe. And it was only with that contrast that she glimpsed something different about her own fear. Something alien.

"Why not?" Katara's voice wasn't accusing. Just soft and gentle.

"I don't know!" Her breaths started coming in great, shallow gasps. "I don't know why I'm so—I can't _stop!_ I keep seeing things and I know you're all my family but I just—!"

"It's alright," Katara said, and put all the weight of decades of healing behind it, so that for an instant Korra could almost believe her. "And it isn't your fault. You've been injured in a way no one fully understands yet. We've already seen it's affecting your memory, and I think it's making you afraid, too."

Korra wanted to be sick. Judging by the look on Asami's face, she wasn't the only one. "I'm sorry, I didn't think..."

"We all need love shouted at us from time to time," Katara told her, with a wry smile. "Don't worry about it too much." She stood and crooked her fingers, drawing up all the water that had been spilled earlier. "You're getting better, Korra. If the poison is what's been making you afraid, it should fade as you heal."

"Getting better," Korra repeated dully. "It doesn't feel like it."

And before anyone could respond to that, Bolin jerked like someone had just hit him over the head with a brick. "Wait! Korra! How long has it been since you fell?"

"What?" She thought about it. "I don't know, like fifteen minutes. Why?"

"You didn't forget! You've been remembering this whole time!"

* * *

And of course that was the moment that Korra found herself abruptly somewhere else. Outside again, this time on one of the upper balconies. She was leaning against someone, her head on their shoulder, their arm around her waist. A brief glance reassured her that it was Asami. Mako and Bolin were there too, both sprawled in their own chairs facing the view. It was evening, and Republic City looked like a thousand candles reflected in the water, but Korra couldn't enjoy it.

"I'm sorry," she said into the silence, feeling wretched. "For everything, for not thinking—I didn't—"

She stopped. Something about the way Mako was smiling at her seemed... too easy.

Korra slumped. "We already did this."

"Yeah," Bolin said, and grinned. "If it helps, everyone forgives you."

"...Not really," she admitted.

Asami hugged her from behind. "I want you to know, I'm sorry too. It was scary hearing all those things, and I didn't handle it well."

Mako opened his mouth, but before he could speak Bolin punched him hard in the shoulder. He swore and grabbed his brother in a headlock.

"Mercy!" Bolin croaked. "I was just keeping my promise!"

Korra must have looked as bewildered as she felt, because the brothers stopped wrestling long enough for Bolin to explain. "I promised you I wouldn't let him apologize, since he didn't do anything wrong."

"Oh. Good."

Mako made a face. "I still—"

"Nope!" Bolin put a hand over his mouth. "We _just_ agreed this wasn't anyone's fault. Mako, you didn't do anything wrong, you were literally just there. Asami, you don't need to feel this bad about yelling _we love you_ at someone. And Korra, you heard Katara. The poison is making you paranoid, which isn't your fault." He waved his arms. "Korra gets a pass because she doesn't remember the last dozen times we went over this, but if you two try and make the same stupid arguments about how awful you are _again_ I swear to all the spirits—!"

Korra started to laugh

* * *

and choked on it as her legs exploded into pins and needles. She cursed and tried to twist sideways, but there was a hand on her shoulder that stopped her. Her head turned—and she was startled to realize that she was holding it up by herself. Her dad met her wide-eyed stare and smiled.

"How are you feeling?" he asked. It felt like a leading question, and possibilities jumped into her mind—was she hurt? Did he want her to feel guilty for something? Was she sick? Poisoned?

She crushed them down. Focused as hard as she could on his face, his playful smile, the fact that he was her father and he loved her. And then, when the panic receded, she realized what he meant. The tingling feeling was still there. In her _legs._

Korra gasped and concentrated on her bare feet. The prickling feeling sharpened until it was agonizing—but her left big toe twitched. It moved. _She_ moved it.

"I can—!" she blurted, before she saw the twinkle in her dad's eyes and realized. "I've already done this, haven't I?"

"You have," he admitted, and squeezed her shoulder. "But I'll never get tired of seeing you so excited."


End file.
